


Keeping My Eyes Open

by caleprwrite



Series: Come to My Window [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, Stucky - Freeform, Young!Stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 02:45:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11175363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: Steve and Bucky come to terms with the death of Sarah Rogers, as well as their feelings for each other.





	Keeping My Eyes Open

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a small description of period-typical religious based homophobia.
> 
> Series of fics inspired by Melissa Etheridge's incredible song "Come to My Window". Based on characters owned by Marvel and Stan Lee. I own no one.

**1935**

 

_ Keeping my eyes open _

_ I cannot afford to sleep _

_ Giving away promises _

_ I know that I can’t keep _

 

_ Nothing fills the blackness  _

_ That has seeped into my chest _

_ I need you in my blood _

_ I am forsaking all the rest _

 

_ Just to reach you _

_ Just to reach you _

_ Oh to reach you, oh _

 

“Buck… she’s gone,” Steve choked out, his small shoulders slumped and shook. 

“C’mere, Stevie. I’m so sorry.” Bucky wrapped the small blond in his arms and held him while he sobbed into his chest. 

Sarah Rogers was gone. She’d fought Tuberculosis for two solid months, but like thousands of others, she’d lost the battle. The hospital she’d worked at had been hit hard and it was a fucking miracle Steve hadn’t been infected too. 

“I just wish I could’a been there, held her hand. I should’a been there,” Steve muttered. 

“Stevie, come on pal. You know she’d do anythin’ to keep ya healthy. Your Ma told us not to come, and she meant it.” Bucky reached down and held Steve’s face gently between his hands. He gulped over the thickness forming in his throat and blinked back his own tears. “We both promised her, ‘kay? Can’t think like that. It was her dyin’ wish and you can’t take that away from her.” 

Steve’s eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. They were swollen and red with pain and sorrow as they looked back up into Bucky’s grey ones. Goddammit, Bucky’d give his left arm to never see that kind of pain in Steve’s eyes ever again. He bent his head down and pressed their foreheads together, breathing the same air, silently begging, willing Steve’s hurt away. He softly brushed Steve’s skin with his thumb, wiping the tears from his cheek. 

Steve’s hands fisted into Bucky’s shirt, holding on for dear life, desperate for some kind of physical connection. His grip lessened for a moment and his brow furrowed. Fear flashed across his features before his grip tightened, pulling Bucky closer. “I- I don’t wanna be alone.”

“You don’t gotta be alone, Stevie. I’m right here. Never leavin’ you,” Bucky promised. His heart broke open and without thinking, he caught Steve’s soft full lips in his own. The sweet pressure and the barely there taste of salty tears on Steve’s skin brought out something feral and protective in Bucky. When Steve kissed him back hungrily, they both knew they’d crossed a line. It was one neither wanted to come back from even if they could.

A small broken sound halfway between fear and relief escaped from deep inside Bucky. If his brain had been functioning at all, he’d have apologized and run off the second he kissed Steve. He could blame it on the emotions, being caught up in the moment. He could say he just wanted to reassure Steve and act like he made a mistake or something. But the truth was, Bucky didn’t  _ want  _ his brain to weigh in on any of that. He’d been wanting to kiss Steve as long as he could remember, really  _ kiss _ him. 

  _All those years ago, when he stayed watch by Steve’s side for two days straight he snuck in a try. He’d been scared Steve was going to die, and had grabbed at a sad little straw of hope, thinking he could wake Steve up with ‘true love’s kiss’ or something childish like that. They’d both been so young, and Bucky was terrified of losing his best friend._

 But this... This was different. So much scarier, so much riskier, and so much more. This was Steve’s hot mouth kissing right back, and the sensation of it finally happening completely shut off any higher thinking. All Bucky knew was wanting, needing. 

Steve let out a soft little sigh and Bucky pressed forward with his tongue, licking into the velvet soft smoothness of Steve’s mouth. The two teens walked each other back until they reached the sofa and the back of Steve’s knees his the edge. He fell back, not letting go of Bucky and pulled him down in the process. Steve’s body acted out of impulse and he wrapped his legs around Bucky’s hips.  He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle, pulling their bodies flush against each other and held him there, kissing back with everything he had.

It all happened so fast, and it all felt perfect but in the back of Bucky’s brain, an alarm was going off. Finally the volume got too loud to ignore and Bucky pulled back, breaking contact with Steve’s mouth breathlessly. 

“Wait…” he moaned and Steve’s lips followed him up greedily. “Wait, Stevie- fuck. I’m so sorry,” he tried again, pushing Steve’s hands away and standing up.

The blond looked up at him, his bright blue eyes wide in confusion. “What?” Steve breathed, his eyes searched Bucky’s face for some kind of clue. God, he wanted this so bad for so long and finally… but now Bucky was apologizing? Embarrassment took hold and Steve was pissed. “What the hell do you mean you’re sorry?” Steve demanded, standing too.

Bucky closed his eyes and breathed deep. This was wrong. Not Steve, not kissing him. Well, yeah, it was. They could be arrested, or worse, if anyone ever found out. That wasn’t why Bucky stopped, though. 

“I just mean-”

“You should go...” Steve croaked. His eyes were filled with hurt and his bottom lip trembled. Bucky reached out but he shoved Bucky away and said it again.

“Stevie, come on. Just let me- let me explain,” Bucky stammered, reaching out to Steve again.  

“Explain? What’s to explain, Buck?” Steve bit back, voice deep with warning like a wounded animal. 

“I just shouldn’t of taken advantage like that, is all,” Bucky said, looking down at his feet. He nervously shoved his hands into his pockets and shot a pleading look at Steve. He knew how Steve could turn cold when he was hurt, and he hated that he was the cause.

“You... actually think you were takin’  _ advantage _ of me?” Steve demanded. “‘Cause me kissin’ you back was obviously so forced, right?” He frowned, put his hands on his small hips and planted his feet. “Really, you should go, Buck.”

Bucky’s chest deflated, it felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. He’d never been able to deal well with Steve being mad at him. Every breath he took was to protect Steve. To love him, keep him safe, and here he’d fucked it all up. Worse, he’d already broken his promise to Sarah.  _ ‘I’ll take care of him, I swear’ _ he vowed. The words rang hollow in his heart as he turned to leave, blinking back the sting of tears in his eyes.   

Steve watched as Bucky softly closed the door behind him.  _ What the fuck was all that? _ One minute he’s in the arms of his best friend who he loves more than life itself and the next Bucky thinks he’s taking  _ advantage  _ of him? Steve’s mind was reeling. Being in the apartment surrounded with reminders of his Ma, the up and down roller coaster of emotions he felt all in a span of minutes with Bucky, it was all too much. He felt like he did after riding the coaster at Coney Island and Steve ran to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and splashed water on his face and the back of his neck. He needed air.

 Steve walked and walked. He paid no attention to how long he’d been gone or how far he’d wandered. The summer sun began to set and his feet began to ache. When he crossed the street to head back home, he heard a woman holler at her boys to come in for the evening. A sharp ache hit him right in the chest and the tears began to well up in his eyes again. He could remember Sarah doing the same thing when night fell and he’d been out playing kick the can with Bucky and a few of the other kids on the block.

Steve turned the corner to the Holy Cross Church. After saying a blessing, he knelt, lit a candle and sat in the back pew. There he quietly sat in reflection of the day. Steve wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly how the church viewed homosexuality. He also knew his conviction in the way his Ma raised him to love and protect others, no matter  _ how  _ they sinned was just as important as any rule imposed on society by the church. 

  _“Promise me, Steve. Promise me you’ll always be true to yourself. I know you’re different, son. You and Bucky have a special relationship. The world will tell you it’s wrong, but the worst thing you can do in this life is fight_ against _the love you have for someone. Be careful, but more importantly, be true to_ yourself. _The Lord won’t turn His back on you for loving someone.”_

 “I promise, Ma,” Steve whispered as he rose to head home. 

He walked the next couple of blocks home with his head held higher. The fresh air and quiet reflection brought Steve’s heart back into focus. He knew it didn’t matter what happened earlier with Bucky. They were best friends- brothers, in a sense. If Bucky thought what happened was a mistake, then as much as it would hurt, Steve would let it go. He’d let Bucky explain it away or pretend it never happened, whatever it took to make things right between the two of them. He’d talk to him about it first thing in the morning.

Later that night, Steve tossed and turned in bed. The hot summer air was heavy and humid. He opened his bedroom window, hoping a breeze would cool the space. Steve laid on his bed with his arms folded on his chest, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the feeling of Bucky’s lips against his own. He reached a hand up and sighed while he gently traced the outline of his lips with a finger. Not much later, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Bucky. 

  _“Stevie… Hey, Stevie…”_

In his sleep, Steve smiled, the soft sound of his name on Bucky’s lips was music to his ears. If it was possible to curl up in a sound, he’s do it in Bucky’s voice. A warm hand caressed his face, and he heard that beautiful sound again.

“Stevie, wake up. I gotta talk to ya.”

Wait- that wasn’t his dream. That was- “Bucky?” Steve asked groggily as his eyes focused on the dark form sitting next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Hey pal,” Bucky smiled. “M’sorry I woke ya, I just couldn’t wait till mornin’.”

Steve sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Bucky smiled, a loving toothy grin, and ruffled the bed-head Steve developed. “Time is it?” he asked. 

“Dunno, ‘bout two I guess?” Bucky shrugged. “You still sore at me?”   

Steve yawned again and got his wits about him. “M’sorry ‘bout all that earlier, Buck,” he said, hanging his head sheepishly. “We don’t have to talk about it. I’ll pretend nothin’ happened if that’s what you want. I just don’t wanna lose you too.”

“No, that’s not- wait, is that what you wanna do?” Bucky asked.

“It’s okay…” Steve shrugged. 

“That’s not what I asked, Stevie. I came here ‘cuz _I_ _wanna_ talk about it.” Bucky sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. “Shove over, punk.” Steve did as he asked. Bucky climbed in next to Steve. It was a lot easier when they were kids, but old habits die hard. 

“I thought a lot about everythin’,” Steve began once they were lying facing each other. Bucky laid next to Steve with his head propped up. Steve looked up into his best friends grey eyes. “You didn’t take advantage of me, ‘kay Buck?” he began. “And I don’t  _ wanna _ pretend nothin’ happened. But I will if that’s what you want.”

Bucky reached out and pushed a stray lock of blond hair off Steve’s forehead. Steve’s eyes closed and he moved just enough to nuzzle into the sensation before meeting his eyes again. “Me neither,” he murmured. “Can I try it again, Stevie? Can I kiss you?”

 

_ Come to my window _

_ Crawl inside, wait by the light of the moon _

_ Come to my window, I’ll be home soon _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm still trying to decide which direction to take the third and final part of this series, so any suggestions would be wonderful. I really love these two dorks and I think it's been nice to explore their innocence, before the world opened up and swallowed their dreams whole.


End file.
